


Trust Fall

by slowmobanana



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Mild Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowmobanana/pseuds/slowmobanana
Summary: Dan decides to join the Fake AH Crew. Ryan thinks it's a bad idea. They have problems, and they're bad. Everyone else has no idea what to do.{Originally Vie and Tango.}





	1. Vie and Tango

**Author's Note:**

> A random drabble for no reason. It would be fun to come up with a story based on this, but I have two (technically three) other things on the go so I will probably wait till I either finish the other two before I consider doing another story. But for now, have fun with this drabble while I scramble to write any of my other two stories. Onwards!  
> EDIT: This for some reason upgraded from a regular one shot drabble to a double shot and I have some ideas to make it a triple shot so I dunno how this is gonna play out because I keep getting random scene ideas so I just write them out and add them as I go. I dunno.

“That's another ten points for me.”

Dan huffed and wrote 10 on the chalkboard underneath Ryan's name, replacing the total at the bottom with 92 next to his own total score, 89. “Bloody fuck,” he mumbled as he set the chalk back down on the metal lip and temporarily removed the earmuffs from his head.

Ryan set the safety on, rested the gun on the table, pulled back an ear, and smiled impishly, the red paint chipping where his cheeks dimpled when he did so. “Gavin made you sound better at this than you are.”

“Sod off,” Dan scoffed. “Gav didn't say a damn thing, did he?”

“Nope! Never says a thing unless it's that you're coming to America to visit.”

The ex-soldier frowned at the comment and picked up the gun carefully, training it in the centre of the target that rested nearly 80 yards from their position. Both he and Ryan replaced their headsets. A few moments of silence and then he pulled the trigger. The bullet shot across the distance, through the paper target, and embedded itself into the concrete wall behind it. Once the echo faded, Dan leaned back to look up at the screen where the target could be seen best from their position. “Ha! Fifteen points, bitch!” He set the safety on and put the gun back on the table as Ryan wrote the number 30 under Dan's name and updating his total points to 104. They both removed an ear from the headsets again.

“So, I heard you're seriously considering Geoff's offer.”

The sudden comment made Dan hesitate, glancing sideways at Ryan and then shrugging. “I don't got much of a choice. Not after we got found out by the MI6. Damn bastards just can't mind their own business.” Sighing, he approached the gun selection and looked over them carefully. “Shouldn't've gone international. That was our first mistake.” There was a sudden bang and Dan jumped, whipping around with a hand over his exposed ear. “Fucking hell, Ryan! A little warning next time! I'm bloody gonna go deaf, you mingy bastard.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Ryan didn't even turn, leaning back to look at the screen to count his points, and then looking back to make sure Dan was okay. “Fifteen.”

Dan just frowned and shook his head, trying to shake the ringing out of his ear. “I'm fine, thanks,” he grumbled.

“I said I was sorry.”

Silence fell again as Dan added the points to Ryan's score. He rubbed his palm against his ear more and took his place in front of a new target. He replaced his earset and raised his pistol, but the shot never came. He shifted his weight on the balls of his feet for a moment, regripping and regripping the gun again but never pulling the trigger. He lowered the gun and turned to Ryan, pushing back an ear. “Gav doesn't want to abandon the English branch,” he said quickly, suddenly, and the Vagabond removed his earmuffs, resting the headset around his neck. “I don't really wanna either, but I can't stay there anymore. Not unless I wanna end up dead or worse. Not after everythin' we've done just to get here.”

Ryan leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. “Okay?”

“Well, you guys are decent company.” He flicked on the safety and leaned against his hand which rested on the table. “I wouldn't mind stayin'. Probably see a lot more action this way.” Ryan said nothing, casting an awkward glance sideways to nothing before meeting with the gaze of the Brit once again. “If I decide to stay, whadda you think?”

The Vagabond hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room with vague concern before tilting his head. “Why would I care?” Dan shrugged and considered the table for some reason. There was a moment of silence as Ryan pondered the situation and he set his head straight again. “You want somebody to care about your decision?”

“No!” the Brit laughed but he looked away at the distance paper target and Ryan cocked an eyebrow. When Dan looked back, he saw the criminal's expression and he sighed, amusement vanishing with the breath. “Not exactly.”

“You...” Ryan tilted his head again, this time one way than another, more for show than out of habit. “...can't make up your mind so you want someone to convince you to?” Dan just looked at him. “Give me something to work with here! I'm not a fucking psychologist, goddamn. You're like my ex-wife! If you wanna stay, stay. If you don't, don't. Obviously, if we didn't want you here, we wouldn't've made the offer. There. Happy? Just make a decision for fuck's sakes.”

“Fine. I'll stay!” He turned, flicking on his headphones quickly before firing at the paper target. This time, Ryan yelled, covering his ears only a split second before. Dan leaned back and glanced up at the TV, smiling. “Bullseye. That's a thirty.”

The Vagabond removed his hands from his ears and pursed his lips together, glaring hard at the new blood who moved to adjust his own score. “You're as much of a prick as Gavin.”

“Bullshit,” the lad laughed, handing the gun to Ryan. “and you know it.”

Ryan inhaled deeply, not moving to take the gun. “So that's it? You're going to join the Fakes.” Dan nodded once, firmly. The Vagabond exhaled rough and reached for the gun. As soon as his fingers wrapped the handle, he struck out his free hand and grabbed Dan's arm, yanking him towards him and spinning him around so Dan's back was too him, pressed up against his chest with one arm wrapped around his chest and the other holding the gun against the young man's temple. The ex-soldier struggled, roughly for the moment until Ryan pulled the trigger.

Click.

Dan stopped struggling, blood running cold for the moment as he realised what had just happened. “Bang. You're dead,” Ryan whispered and the boy swallowed hard. “Don't move, or I will kill you for real.” To add to his threat, he flicked the safety off and on enough times for Dan to lose count and then stopped, letting the silence to fall once again. “You wanna be one of the Fakes, you gotta do better than that. You've got a good eye for a handgun, and an even better shot with a machine gun, but face to face like this, you're absolutely useless.”

“You don't know shit about me.”

“I know that you're dead.”

“Fuck you.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” Dan slammed a heel onto Ryan's foot and the other lost concentration long enough for the younger man to make his move, pulling the Vagabond over his shoulder and flipping him hard onto the ground. Ryan didn't let go of Dan's arm and he pulled him down with him, rolling over sideways so the two were wrestling on the ground, trying to gain control of the handgun in Ryan's hands.

Dan grit his teeth together both hands on the gun while Ryan shoved a palm into his cheek, pulling the gun up with his hand to release Dan's grip. Instinctively, the young man let go and Ryan nearly was thrown backwards. He pulled the handgun back and aimed it for Dan's forehead, but a fist connected with his jaw before he could pull the trigger.

The Vagabond fell sideways, the palm against Dan's face lifting. The ex-soldier reacted quicker, pushing Ryan to his side and reaching again for the gun, this time at a much greater advantage as he tried to sit on the gent's stomach so he couldn't get up again. Ryan grunted as the weight fell on his stomach and he struggled for air, trying not to let go of the gun whilst still trying to get the young man off of him.

Dan's fingers found the gun and he held on, tugging back with all of his might. Ryan tried to lean up with the force but the weight on his stomach held him back. To prevent the snapping of his spine, he let go of the gun and grappled the young man's throat, pulling him down as he fell back into his laying position. Dan fell sideways and he found Ryan's arm around his neck in a very powerful, very intentional choke hold.

He struggled against the hold, a hand trying to pull on the elbow as best he could without avail. All too quickly, the rim of his vision blurred and he only had mere seconds to consider a plan, choking air into his lungs and gritting his teeth together, trying to hold onto the fabrics of his consciousness. All of a sudden, he lifted the gun into the air and fired.

The sound reverberated throughout the room and the two men screamed simultaneously in agony, all action halting in favour of covering their ears as if it would do anything more. The room spun and they couldn't hear a damn thing outside the ringing that tormented them loudly. Dan scrambled, clutching to the gun for his life and spinning to fall on his ass, pointing the gun in the place Ryan had once been only to find a much larger barrel staring right back at him.

The Vagabond clutched a rifle which had been resting on the weapons rack at the back of the room, standing over Dan with bared teeth and flaring nostrils. They remained absolutely still, not daring to pull the trigger without knowing the state of the safety state of their gun. The ringing slowly subsided and quick, heavy footsteps trotted down the stairs beside them, though neither refused to look at the new comers.

“Ryan, what the fuck did I say about firing guns at the ceiling!?” Geoff snapped before he had a moment to process the situation. He stopped suddenly as both sets of eyes turned to him sharply. “Uh... What? Okay. Why is this-- What are you doing?”

The two men tore their gaze from Geoff to look at each other. Slowly, they each lowered their weapons and felt the adrenaline fade from their blood. Dan pushed himself to his feet, stumbling a bit, but maintaining his balance. Ryan turned to Geoff with a nonchalant expression. “Dan's decided to stay,” he said as though this was the simple decision for a lunch date rather than a life-or-death consideration.

Click.

Ryan dropped his shoulders and tightened his lips, turning slowly to see the barrel of the handgun between his eyes, Dan grinning victoriously right behind it. “Bang. You're dead.” There wasn't a second between those words and Ryan slamming the butt of his rifle into Dan's eye. The boy recoiled, backing up but not falling, a palm pressing against his injury as the Vagabond chuckled rather gleefully at the turn of events. “I thought we were done!”

“A Vagabond's work is never done,” Ryan quipped, stroking the rifle as though it were a pet rather than a weapon.

“When you two jerk offs are done fucking around,” Geoff snapped then, earning the appropriate attention. “get your asses upstairs. We've got work to do.”

Ryan turned to Dan, shrugged, and placed the rifle on the weapons stand. “I'm still alive though. I killed you first.” The Brit hadn't a time to respond as Geoff and the Vagabond returned upstairs to the base, leaving the ex-soldier alone in the gun range.

He turned to the window, glancing at his reflection briefly to inspect the damage to his eye. It was already swelling and he wished he had inflicted better damage on Ryan to prove that they were equals but he was left without such evidence. He put the pistol into the holster on his hip and hurried up the stairs just as Geoff ordered.

 


	2. Two Knives in the Counter is Worth One in the Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A random sequel a random drabble I wrote one day and now this is a thing, I guess. I don't understand what became of this, but sure. Let's do this.  
> Shorter than my typical chapters, but that's because it's not a chapter, it's a drabble. I dunno. Onwards.

He heard chopping in the kitchen and so he decided to investigate the noise. It wasn't like it was unusual to hear noises throughout the safehouse from time to time, but it was the first time he had actually heard sounds coming from the kitchen – specifically, sounds that were supposed to be coming from the kitchen.

Soundlessly, he opened the door and peered in. His eyes narrowed on the single man in the kitchen who faced away from him, most definitely the source of the chopping he had heard in the other room. Dan considered leaving Ryan to whatever task he bestowed upon himself but his eyes flicked to a single butcher knife laying on the island behind the Vagabond and he reconsidered. Stealthily, he continued into the kitchen.

He move minimally, the soles of his shoes making no sound as he gently crossed the distance from the door to the island. He spotted a large knife on the island so he slowly pulled it into his palm, wrapping fingers around the handle as the blade slowly slide of the counter with a soft noise. Ryan didn't turn so he considered himself safe.

He crept up behind the Vagabond, slowly lifting the knife. Then, like a snake, he lunged forward and pulled the Vagabond back against his chest, holding the blade to his victims' throat. Ryan didn't bother to struggle and Dan grinned. “Gotcha,” he chuckled. Ryan hummed uncertainly and the young man felt something tap against his inner thigh. He looked down and frowned, finding the blade Ryan had been using to chop the vegetables with a little close for Dan's comfort. He scoffed and lowered the blade, Ryan mimicking his action. “Bullshit. You're always ready, ain't you?”

Ryan said nothing as Dan backed away into a stool by the island and fell into a sit. Instead, he just turned and continued to chop the carrot he had been so engrossed in before. “Can never be too careful,” was his reply as he poured the carrots into a boiling pot of broth and water, with a mixture of many other ingredients inside. “You are literally the worst at personal safety.”

“Whaddaya mean? I'm perfectly safe,” he said exactly as he inspected a scar on his hand he just received and also remembered the black eye on his face from the previous day. “I'm tough, anyway.”

“Hm. Must be the wind,” Ryan sighed sarcastically. “Poor Dan, died just yesterday.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Will you quit bringin' that up? Geez, Ryan.”

“It's like I can still hear his voice.”

“Fuckin' hell.” He grabbed an apple from the bowl in the centre of the table and lobbed it at the Vagabond's head, who ducked just before it struck him. It hit the cabinet and bounced into the boiling pot of water, and Ryan barely avoided the splash.

He frowned and approached the pot, staring into it. “Would've been able to work with that,” he mumbled. “had it been chopped up.”

“What're you making anyway?” Dan asked, grabbing himself a pear this time out of the bowl with the intention to eat.

“Apparently, apple and beef stew.” Ryan fetched a pair of prongs from the array of utensils and fished the apple out of the pot, dropping it onto the counter for the time being. “The hell do you want, anyway? Did you just come in here to make an attempt on my life, then give up or what?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Dan admitted through a mouthful of pear. “Didn't realise anyone actually cooked around here other than Jack.”

“I cook all the time!” Ryan retorted, grabbing his knife and chopping up the apple. “You're just never here.”

“And now I'll be here all the time.” Ryan sighed disappointingly and Dan made a face. “What? I thought you said you didn't care if I stayed.”

“I don't. I just chopped up the fucking apple and put it in the pot on accident.”

Dan chuckled and furrowed his eyebrows. “What'd ya do that for?”

“Guess I got dedicated. Apple and beef stew it is.” The two chuckled lightheartedly, as though they hadn't tried to kill each other twice now, and Ryan replaced the top back on the stew to let it simmer. “There. Just gotta wait, like... three hours or something.”

“Three hours!?” Dan exclaimed. “Fuck. I was actually planning to have some.”

Ryan ran a hand threw his hair and shrugged, making his way around Dan to the island and fetching himself a banana. “Well, you can have some, you just have to wait three hours first.”

Dan sighed and rested his arms on the island, falling into silence once again.

All of a sudden, his face was pressed against the counter and a blade was pressed against the back of his neck. He inhaled deeply, roughly, and he seethed, “Ryan... What the fuck?”

Ryan laughed and let the male go, grabbing his banana off the table again to eat. “I'm sorry. You just make it so easy.”

“Easy!?” Dan pushed himself into a sit up then glanced around for his pear. “The hell is so easy about me that you always gotta-- Where's my pear?”

Ryan snorted. “I'll give you one chance to reword your question, or I'm giving you a snide remark.”

Dan looked down under his stool and frowned when he noticed his pear. He picked it up and threw it from where he was sitting into the trash, pumping a fist when it landed on the first try. On the verge of forgetting what the conversation was about, he simply turned around and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Look at you.” Ryan gestured to all of Dan and leaned against the island. “You have openings everywhere. I could name...” He glanced around the room briefly. “...six different ways to kill you from just this position.” He stopped and glanced down at the banana then back up at Dan. “Seven, if I'm creative enough.”

“It's like everything is a weapon to you,” the ex-soldier sighed, grabbing a new apple from the bowl.

“Everything is a weapon to me.” Ryan rubbed his face and smudged the paint in doing so. “That's how I stay alive.”

Dan frowned and considered his apple, not motion for a bite of it yet. “I'm your friend, Ryan. You don't need to be on guard all the time.”

There was a moment of silence as Ryan glanced at the clock again, then folded his arms. “You trust Gavin too much.”

The soldier furrowed his eyebrow. “Gavin? Hell no.”

“You assume that Gavin trusts us and we trust Gavin, and you also assume that the same goes for you.”

“Not true. I'm starting to question you.”

“Good. You should be.” He stood up straight then and ate the last of the banana, throwing it in the organic trash bin. “You can't even be sure that Gavin even trusts us. Or that we trust him. You're really making a huge mistake agreeing to stay.”

Dan huffed and licked his lips uncertainly. “The hell is wrong with you? You were bitchin' about me being the hot and cold one, but look how the tables have fuckin' turned. You're the one who convinced me to stay.”

“No, I told you that if we didn't want you here, we wouldn't've made the offer.” Ryan finally turned then, sharply and making hard eye contact. “I never said why.”

Dan stood suddenly, grinding his teeth together. “Everyone else is completely fine with it! Geoff and Jack and Michael and bloody Jeremy haven't given me a wrong way since then! The only one giving me a bloody hard time is you! The fuck is your damn problem!?”

Ryan threw his arms in the air and stormed back over to the island. “The problem is that you are the only one stupid enough to attack me when I'm in the kitchen with a fucking knife in my hand!” To further his point, he picked up the butcher knife and stabbed it into the counter top. “No one else in the Fakes would even think to be alone in the same room as me when I first got here. You're relaxed and irrational and proud, and that's gonna get somebody killed.”

“I haven't gotten anyone killed before! I'm damn good at what I do!”

“This isn't the same thing as the England Branch, Dan! This is different. This is Los Santos. We are the Fakes. You aren't just sitting at a desk, calling the shots anymore. You're going to be on the field and you are going to have a target on your back and you better start learning how to keep an eye open in your sleep or you'll be dead by dinnertime.”

Dan slammed his fist against the island. “Don't tell me what to do!”

“Fine! Die for all I care! Just don't bring the rest of us down with you!”

Quietly, the refrigerator door shut and the two men turned around quickly to see Michael leaning up against the door with a glass of water in his hand. He took a quiet sip, watching them both. He sighed nonchalantly, as though the water was refreshing, and gestured to them. “Maybe you guys outta... cool down, or something,” he suggested calmly. “Jack's gonna be pissed about the counter top.”

Ryan glanced down at the knife, which was still sticking upright from the granite. Slowly, he yanked the knife out of the island and set it down gently, exhaling slowly as the two of them calmed down. Dan said nothing as he grabbed the apple off the table and exited the kitchen, leaving the two mercenaries in the kitchen.

Michael turned from the door to the Vagabond, who was facing away from Michael and leaning against the island. The gunman hesitated for a moment before making his way over to the pot on the stove and opened it to peer inside. “Apple and beef stew?” he questioned.

“Dan's idea,” came the quiet reply.

Michael hummed and replaced the top. He moved passed the island and placed the cup beside Ryan's hand. “You probably need this more than I do.” He made his way to the door and stopped, glancing back once. For a moment, he was quiet, and then he said, “He's a prick, isn't he?”

They exchanged a smirk and Michael shut the door behind him, leaving the Vagabond alone in the kitchen.

 


	3. Sorry, I Thought You Were Someone Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a triple shot.  
> I have no idea what this is gonna turn into, but whatever. Also, this is incredibly short but, again, they're all drabbles. Onwards!

A hand fell on his shoulder and Dan reacted instantly, grabbing the arm and flipping the owner over his body and onto the ground in front of him. He pulled his knife from the belt on his arm and held it to the throat of the one who surprised him, glaring hard daggers at the attacker.

And yet he was met with the eyes of a hacker.

“Gav?”

Gavin was trying not to cough or groan, lest he accidentally splice his neck open on the blade. Dan's expression twisted into horrified concern as he pulled the dagger away from his throat and replaced it into it's sheath. “Fuck, Gav. I'm so sorry. I thought...”

Somewhere in the back of the room, he could hear Ryan chuckled to himself at the turn of events and he was equally ashamed and pissed off. Gavin just groaned in pain as Dan helped him to his feet. He rubbed the small of his back and winced, rubbing at his face as he inspected the floor he had been laying on moments before. “Bloody hell, Dan. The hell's wrong with you?”

“Sorry. I'm so sorry. Fuck me...” He rubbed his lips and shook his head. “I thought you were fucking Ryan.”

Gavin huffed unhappily and looked at Dan, not quite glaring but it was somewhere in there. “What's going on between you two? It's like since we left you two alone, you've had it in for each other.”

The ex-soldier shrugged nonchalantly. “He's a prick. What can I say?”

“Yeah, and I reckon you're one, too, B,” Gavin replied bluntly, taking his seat on the couch where Dan had been sitting previously. “You can't just fight everyone who disagrees with you.”

“I damn well can!” he retorted, but that wasn't exactly how he was seeing it. “He attacked me first, anyway. I don't understand how this is my fault.”

“Cause you're antagonizing him, Dan,” the hacker replied matter-of-factly. “Ryan's a bastard but he's not an arsehole.”

Dan inhaled and furrowed his eyebrows before glancing down and rubbing his eye, then his nose. “Absolute jackoff,” he snapped and took a new seat on a single chair. “Whaddaya want me to do about it, huh? Let him push me around? Look at him!” He gestured to Ryan, who was deep in a poker game with Jeremy and Jack. “He bloody thinks he's better than me.”

Gavin turned back to face Dan, evidently annoyed. “Yeah, so does Geoff and so does Michael. What's so special about Ryan?”

“Well, you know! He's... He does the thing...” He gestured back to Ryan again about three times before he huffed with disappointment, failing for words. “He tries to rub it in my face.”

“You have an ego like a boat on water, Dan.” Gavin reached forward for the Xbox controller and the TV remote. “Easily rocked.”

Dan frowned. “You're no better.”

“At least I don't around picking fights with feared mercenaries.”

“Feared? He dresses like every day is Halloween,” Dan leaned back and folded his arms. “Let go of your childhood, mate, and get it with the adults.”

Gavin stretched out on the couch and sighed. “Sounds like your bein' the childish one, B.” Dan made a face but didn't say anything about it. For a few moments, they sat in silence then Michael showed up out of nowhere and sat at the edge of the couch. Gavin moved his feet so he could seat, then playfully rested his legs on Michael's lap. The gunman scoffed and pushed Gavin's legs off, smirking. “Get the fuck off me. The hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothin',” the hacker chuckled and drew up his knees again, then smiled when the words Mini-Nuke showed up on the TV screen. “Sweet. Been needin' one of those.”

Dan sighed and his eyes fell to Ryan again, making accidental and unexpected eye contact with the mercenary. The Vagabond didn't even look away as he threw his hand of cards on the table, and Jeremy and Jack groaned in annoyance. He only looked away when he pulled all the cash in the center to him. Then Gavin died in the video game.

Dan huffed, annoyed.

 


End file.
